


We Break Up, We Make Up

by fearnotthedemons



Series: 7 Day Fic Challenge [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers - Freeform, Clintasha - Freeform, Drama, F/M, Fancy Gala, Marvel Universe, Pre-Avengers (2012), Undercover Mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 05:44:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11730693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fearnotthedemons/pseuds/fearnotthedemons
Summary: Prompt: It must start with "Heads we get married, tails we break up."





	We Break Up, We Make Up

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to starchaser22 for motivating me in the worst way possible

“Heads we get married, tails we break up,” stated Natasha matter-of-factly, causing her partner to pout. 

“C’mon, Nat! We both know it’s more dramatic if we break up,” Clint Barton complained loudly. 

“We’ve already spent 15 minutes arguing this back and forth,” Natasha retorted, clearly running out of patience. “I'm not spending any more time explaining to you how much better a proposal would be. Now give me a damn quarter.”

Needless to say, Hawkeye and Black Widow’s mission was not going very smoothly. They were supposed to be infiltrating a high-end gala to steal back valuable SHIELD intel, but to pull it off they needed a distraction. Their ideas for said distraction… clashed. Natasha believed that no one could ignore a proposal. Everyone loved to ‘ooh’ and ‘aahh’ over new couples, so they would have the room’s complete attention. Clint respectfully disagreed (mostly because he was afraid what would happen if he was disrespectful). There was nothing better, in his opinion, than a good old-fashioned break-up. Crowds loved that shit. The louder and more obnoxious, the better. Plus, he thought it would be hilarious. Proposals were always so… boring. 

There was no neutral party they could turn to, so Clint provided the quarter and without further ado, Natasha flipped. 

 

An hour later they arrived at the gala dressed to kill. They were easily the most attractive couple there, Clint thought smugly. Natasha sported her trademark smirk that was a combination of “We all know how good I look” and “I’m planning at least five ways to kill all of you at this very moment”. It was an international super-spy thing.

They mingled and drank champagne and pleasantly glided amongst the other guests for about 15 minutes. It really was the perfect scene for their little act to take place. Now to begin it.

“Darling,” Clint begin in an uncomfortably smooth tone, “Don’t you think it’s time we danced?”

Natasha fluttered her eyelashes at a good-looking man passing by and ignored him.

“Sweetums? Did you hear me?” Clint tried again, trying his very best to keep his voice sounding like he was a Type A billionaire with control issues. (I mean, he didn’t have any life experience, but he was trying his best.) 

“Did you say something, Stewart?” Natasha finally acknowledged in an airy, dismissive tone. 

“Valentina, snookums, we talked about this. You know I don’t like it when you look at other men that way.”

“Oh, Stewie, shut up. You’re such a kill-joy.”

At this point about five people were listening in, hoping for the situation to escalate. Clint was more than happy to oblige.

He glared at the man “Valentina” had made eyes at with a vengeance, and then, in a spur of the moment decision, decided to march right up to him. Natasha played along, pulling on his sleeve and begging him not to make a scene. 

Clint started shouting and making wild accusations at the man, demanding to know exactly what his intentions were towards his darling Valentina, and what made him think he could look at her like that. 

Natasha played her part beautifully, shouting back at “Stewie” that he ruined all her fun. Their audience was spell-bound, captivated by the horrific scene of aristocratic depravity. 

“I hate you! You always ruin everything for me!” Natasha cried, stomping her heel down on Clint’s foot. 

“Ow! Damnit, Val, that hurt!” 

“I hope it did!” She shrieked, stomping on his foot again. “You heartless bastard. We’re through!”

“Fine!” Clint shouted back, throwing his hands up and stomping away. “That’s just fine!” 

The both of them exited the scene with a stomp and a swoosh, much to the crowd’s appreciation, if their scandalized gasps were anything to go by. Their execution was flawless, and by the end of the night their dramatic break-up was all anyone was talking about. The files hidden on the computer upstairs weren’t even missed, and the story of Stewart and Valentina was remembered for many galas to come. 

 

“I told you break-ups are better.”

“Shut up.”


End file.
